B u t t e r C a s t l e
by crimson nightmare
Summary: NOW REVISING! New CH2 up! AU. So we visit Bakura's home for the first time, and, well, we definitely didn't know what we were getting ourselves into beforehand. YAOI MarikRyou,YamiBakura,SetoOtogi,MalikJoey
1. Prologue: From a Pipe with a View

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.  
**Warnings:** Shounen-ai. (Yaoi in nature) Hints of child abuse (to what point is only in your imagination, therefore only implied) Blanching balance between angst and humor.?  
**Summary:** AU Everyone watches as heat rises and melts the mirage of a house that secured an unsociable Ryou for all his life. Marik/Ryou. Yami/Bakura, Seto/Otogi, implied Malik/Joey.  
**Randomness:** Never trust normality when the number of boys that an insane author presents to you is an even number, because it usually leads to allowing the crazy author to pair everyone off as yaoi.  
**For people reading this for the first time:** Ryou is Bakura's brother. No, this is not an incest fic. No, this is not a Bakura-abuse-Ryou fic. No, this is not a Ryou's-many-failed-suicide-attempts fic.

**CAST  
**_(Because we all know that there are only a few hundred versions of each name on this site)_  
Ryou Bakura: _Ryou_  
Yami Bakura: _Bakura_  
Yami Yugi: _Yami_  
Malik: _Malik_  
Yami Malik: _Marik_  
Duke Devlin: _Otogi Ryuuji_  
_Joey Wheeler_  
_Seto Kaiba_

---

**B u t t e r . C a s t l e  
**by Crimson Nightmare

---**  
**

**Prologue: Fly on the Wall; Dog behind Bars**

_"May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night and a smooth road all the way to your door." - Irish Blessings_**  
**

**---  
**

**Ryou POV**

My brother is a man who dreams about the world outside. I watch him close his grip around a baseball as he toss and turn in his sleep. He is smiling. I wonder what he's dreaming about.

I wonder if he is dreaming about baseball. How do you play baseball anyways? I have only seen him playing what he calls 'Catch' with Vitto (our old, but brilliant pale labrador). He throws the ball at the dog and Vitto would yelp and jump at it, catching it in his mouth like it's a chewy piece of candy. Is Catch the same thing as baseball? Does it have to be played with a dog? I wish I can ask my brother, but he's sleeping right now.

**I better not wake him from his dream, or else he'll wake up again to a nightmare that he does not need.**

Vitto nudges my elbow, and I turn around, surprised that he's up at this hour. He places a piece of leftover chicken breast down on the ground beside my knees, and I quickly grab it and stuff it down my throat. The black soot on the meat feels a bit sandy, but that's what you get for eating what you pick up in a ventilation pipe. I pat Vitto's head thankfully. He licks my hand. For the ten thousandth time, I thank the heavens that Vitto is so loyal and smart. He finds me in these crooks and crannies of our house, and brings me dinner. I'll probably starve otherwise.

Real dogs, and a person who is said to be a dog, are two different things. Real dogs, like Vitto, are viewed as adorable, fun pets. They are to be groomed, hugged, and well-fed. They keep you from remembering that you are old and alone and no one cares about you anymore. A person who is seen as a dog is a bastard, an unwanted son. An ignored piece of garbage that people kick around, wishing that it wasn't there.

For years I exsited as a _dog_ to my family. And then for many more years I became a _pest_ that live in my family's grave, a vermin that hides in the many narrow, hidden openings of this house. This old, stony castle, this place of sodomy and murder that were commited years ago, still haunt us beneath our eyelids when we sleep at night, and when we live like we are alive during the day.

**I wish my brother good dreams of baseball and green grassfields, though.**  
Bakura deserves at least _some_ good dreams some times.

---

**To be continued...**

_"What I give form to in daylight is only one per cent of what I have seen in darkness." - M.C. Escher_

**---**

**A/N:** I decided to rewrite this fic, simply because the idea's been in my head since forever, and it's never going to stop coming back and gnaw at my foot until I finish it. I've messed around with the original plot line and changed some things around, in order for it to make sense again.


	2. Chapter 1: In the Doorway

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.  
**Warnings:** Shounen-ai. (Yaoi in nature) Hints of child abuse (to what point is only in your imagination, therefore only implied) Blanching balance between angst and humor.?  
**Summary:** AU Everyone watches as heat rises and melts the mirage of a house that secured an unsociable Ryou for all his life. Marik/Ryou. Yami/Bakura, Seto/Otogi, implied Malik/Joey.**  
**

**B u t t e r . C a s t l e  
**by Crimson Nightmare

---**  
**

**Chapter 1: Into the Open Mouth of a Disembodied Smile  
**

_"The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible" - Oscar Wilde_

_--- _

He woke up from a dream of a game of Catch with Vitto, a green, green grassfield, and a child in white chasing him from behind. The sounds of childish giggles died down from his dreamscape as his conscious took over. The sun was up; dawn was here.

Putting away the washed dishes after breakfast, Bakura spread himself across the sofa, sighing in pleasure as the morning breeze brushed over his face. He sat there quietly, waiting, for he was expecting people. 

'They're late.' Bakura mused. 'They're going to pay for make me wait.' He smirked as the doorbell suddenly rings. 'I don't like waiting.'

He got up, walked slowly to the door, opened it, and was about to begin a well-prepared speech to the fools at the door about being late and being losers, when a hot, white flash suddenly took over his mind. For a few good seconds he stood there, frozen in excruciating pain as the white flash continued to claw its way through his mind.

"-akura? Are you going to let us in or not? You're gapping like a fish." Someone was speaking.

Bakura blinked. Oh. The pain was gone. He was facing Yami and the others who were expecting to be let inside. So what was that all about? "Get in, you fool. And I do not, nor will I ever, do something as stupid looking as gapping like a fish." He added, glaring at Yami. The other just shrugged and made his way into the mansion, a light backpack in hand.

Following the Pharoah was Joey Wheeler (Heya Bakura!), who dragged his messy, heavy pack of who-knows-what across the floor, bringing in dust and dry leaves from the lawn outside. Bakura grimaced, but let the boy go for once. He didn't want to start killing somebody just yet. The Ishtars raced into the mansion at top speed - each sticking their tongues out at one another, and then raced around Bakura (Bakura Stop him! No, stop him!) once before rushing into the living room. Their packs flew across the room and each landed on the sofa with a small 'Thump'

Bakura sighed tiredly. "Why did I invite all the crazy ones into my house?" He muttered to himself. Again he watched as Seto Kaiba nodded once silently (which Bakura was somewhat grateful for), and entered the mansion with his ever-present suitcase. The taller man's lips twitched upward in a small, knowing smirk.

"This place is HUGE!" Otogi whistled, following, carrying a simple book bag. "Never knew you were the type for medieval classics, though." The black-haired young man started parading around in curiosity. Bakura closed his eyes. This was certainly not going to be easy.

"It was inherited. Now are you going to settle down so I can show you around or not?"

---

Bakura's home was an enormous lone, stony castle on a large, near-triangular island in the middle of Lake Ishida. Yami's group had came by motorboat, all surprised at how far away and isolated it was where Bakura lived. Apparently, Bakura explained, he had food supply sent to him every month to put into storage, and the castle had been upgraded by Bakura so that clean water and electricity would be available just like any other mansion in a city would. Yami wondered how Bakura managed to live in this huge, empty place all by himself. It was so ... quiet here. As if all things were dead. Empty. Many rooms were left unused, or locked up tighter than a bank safe. Yami couldn't help but peer at those doors with curiosity. 

They finally settled into their own rooms. Each differently styled, apparently designed by Bakura himself ("If I am going to have you people live here, I don't want to hear any of you complaining about anything" Bakura had said quickly in defense, least someone would think that he was being _considerate_), was quite suitable for each individual's tastes. Bakura knew people well, Yami mused, the young man did not survive just on toughness and pride. Bakura's ability to observe human behavior was...impressive, and even respectable. Even if the Theif's intentions weren't always upright. The white-haired man could tell you almost exactly what you're worried or excited about when he observes how you fidget out of habit and so on. Bakura was surprisingly pleasantly tactful with people when it was what he intended to do.

Yami looked around at his own suite appraisingly, pleased with the luxurious dark red curtains, warm, matted floor, and dimly glossed rosewood furniture. The elegant but not too dark theme was suiting, almost tenderly comforting the Pharoah to settle in. He patted his large cream-colored bed softly. "This is nice." He muttered.

"Hey, Yami!" Joey propped down on one of the dark red sofa in Yami's room, "Man, this place is awesome! Bakura sure knows how to make a room!"

Yami smiled, "Yes, he chooses things rather well for people." He set his backpack onto the sofa and gestured at Joey, "Come on, let's go see your room." He glanced at Joey's heavy bag. "I'll help you with that, too."

---

Bakura was surprisingly nice - in the sense that he didn't throw Joey into a random dungeon, as Yami would have expected the white-haired fiend to. Joey's room turned out to have a lighter mood, a more childish feel to it. A friendly, light green theme was decorated and the sandy white stripped curtains were hanged to match Joey's bed, on which was a large Sheep plushie (that could make '_bah bah_' sounds when you shake it) that Joey and Yami just stared at.

"What is that?" Yami managed to ask after a small while of staring.

"Bakura expects me to hug plushies to sleep at night?" Joey pointed at it rather blankly.

The two stood in questioning silence while Malik and Marik ran around outside, trying to find their rooms.

"Ha, I get my own room." said Marik.

"Don't be stupid, I have my own room too. So there!" came his little brother's protest.

(Yami heard this in Joey's room, and commented tiredly. "That's no way to express how stupid you both are.")

Malik was given an exotic looking suite with covers that had pale gold linings over some type of heavy white material. He liked his room. A few Egyptian artifacts decorated the corners of the walls, which, if looked closely, one could see the faint, pearly wall designs of Egyptian symbols. It was a breezy, yet styled theme made suitably for the younger Ishtar. Malik smiled.

Before he could go and bother Marik to see his room, however, Bakura's voice boomed from down the hall. "GET DOWN HERE PEOPLE. DINNER!"

Oh, well, another time then. He had got three months to explore this place anyways. What's the rush?

He joined the others going down from the second floor - which was where most of their rooms were located at - to the lobby, where a large, long oak dinner table was set up, ready for the meal.

"Wow, Bakura, you feed your pet out of your own bowl? (You seem too scary to do something so _nice_...)" Joey commented.

Bakura glared at the blonde (not really worked up, just annoyed at Joey out of habit) "Hn. Vitto's not just a pet to this family." he answered mildly. "Oh, and don't bother him when he eats. He always wants humans out of his way when he eats." he warned.

Malik and Joey watched curiously, as Vitto the pale labrador really did take the edge of his bowl in his mouth, and trotted off to who-knew-where.

---

_**To be continued...**_

---

**A/N:** Revised chapter 1. No cliffhangers this time, but really, how long do you think I can hold off on the cliffhangers? I tried my best not to change a lot. There are just some things that must make sense to me, and so those I changed. That way, surprise, surprise, this story can actually continue where I left off!  
Feel free to tell me what you think. It's been a while since I wrote anything in YGO fandom. It's all school's fault. Blame it ALL on school. Yes._**  
**_


	3. Chapter 2: Behind Framed Glass

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.  
**Warnings:** Shounen-ai. (Yaoi in nature) Hints of child abuse (to what point is only in your imagination, therefore only implied) Blanching balance between angst and humor.?  
**Summary:** AU Everyone watches as heat rises and melts the mirage of a house that secured an unsociable Ryou for all his life. Marik/Ryou. Yami/Bakura, Seto/Otogi, implied Malik/Joey.**  
**

**B u t t e r . C a s t l e  
**by Crimson Nightmare

---

**Chapter Two: Through Our Picture Frames**

_"A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen." - Edward de Bono _**  
**

**--- **

There were pictures lining the dimly-lit hallways in Bakura's castle. Otogi let his fingertips brush over the thin sheet of dust on the dark gold picture frames, and promptly sneezed. Hmm. Bakura isn't in any of these pictures.

Otogi had mercifully decided against taunting anyone at the moment, and was currently exploring the East Wing of the castle, where no suits were located, but where a gigantic hallway with black and white family photographs lining its walls was situated. The pictures were certainly interesting. Despite Bakura's silvery mane, his ancestors seldom had hair color anywhere close to pale. It seemed like Bakura's family line was cut off from memory from his great grandfather's generation, because the latest photo, that Otogi had found, was of that particular family. There was nothing about Bakura's own grandfather, parents, or even Bakura himself, which disappointed Otogi severely (as well as the others, if they were here to see this), since the group did secretly agree to come to Bakura's home in order to investigate his life.

Bakura, at least, seemed to have shared a bit of features from the generation in the photographs. Long eyelashes, deep facial structure, beautiful, lethal stares. Bakura's eyes certainly looked similar to his great grandmother's. She was a beautiful, elegant brunette in a thick, black Victorian dress, eyes cold and glaring as she sat between Bakura's great grandfather and several other men and women of her age. Otogi wondered why the family looked so beautiful yet so unpleasant---

A small mirror to his left fell off its table with a loud crash. Otogi jumped. Oh shoot. He broke something in Bakura's house...and it was probably quite expensive by the looks of its age. He sighed. Kneeling down on the floor, he started picking up the mirror pieces one by one. They glistened under the dim lighting of the hallway.

Up in a vent behind the patterened wires, a pair of brown eyes looked down at Otogi in interest. _What was this boy doing in big brother's home? Why are these people here? Oh no, this boy broke Father's mirror, will Father whip him? _He'd never seen his Father whip other people before though..._Perhaps, if Father doesn't come back, this boy could get away with it! This boy should run! Fast! Run away before Father comes back!_

So he began to make other things break in hopes that Otogi would be scared away. He crawled over to another vent opening, and shook a table that held many glass trophies won by his father. His father's famous novel awards started trembling, and then they crashed down one by one, spreading their crystalic glass shards across the floor.

Otogi was looking around him in horrified awe. _What was happening?_ "What the---?" Another glassware broke, and this one almost hit his leg. "What the hell!" He jumped away from another small glass horse that rolled down from a shelf beside his head. "What's happening!"

A particularly long piece of glass shard sliced open his palm, and Otogi screamed, backing away from the sudden storm of glass shards all around him. It was like someone was here, pushing around all the glass cases and the trophies or something.

_Quick! Run away! Run away before Father comes back!_

"What's going on?" another tall, young man with blue eyes appeared at the end of the hall way.

"Seto! Oh god I'm so glad someone else is here! Look at what's happening! I'm not even touching anything!" Otogi gasped, sounding confused and frustrated. "How am I supposed to explain this to Bakura?"

And as if the force recognized the name, the shaking of furnitures stopped. Then it was quiet. Only the crunchy, cracking sound of Seto walking over the glass shards could be heard.

"I saw it. Don't worry." Seto replied, rather unperturbed by any of this. "It was probably a small earthquake. Don't get all squeaky about it."

"_Squeaky_!"

"Just get that cut covered, it's dripping on the floor."

"Well, _thanks_, for caring about the floor."

Their voices became harder to hear as he watched them walk away looking for something to clean the mess up. He was incredulous. _Why weren't they afraid? Don't they know that Father is coming soon? Why were they still in this place? They should be moving out! All of them!_

_All of them, before Father comes back!_

---_  
_

The wind blew. A clear, wash-glass scent entered and filled a dimly lit room through an opened window.

Yami rested his head on a bent knee as he watched the mass of white clematis outside of his window gradually became tinted with dust yellow as the glorious, fervent sun descended down on the land.

Sunset was one of the most spectacular sceneries that Yami could never stop watching. He watched the sun bury itself in the distant sand hills when he was back in Egypt. He now watched the same, fulvous fist of fire making its way down from its place in the painted sky as well.

He never grew tired of it.

It had been a peaceful morning. Ever since the group had entered Bakura's castle yesterday, people have been trying to find their way around the castle and familiarizing the long, twisted hallways that somehow managed to always lead them to places other then their wanted destinations. Yami could tell that they were all enjoying themselves, though - for one, Joey slept and snored like a child as how he always did at home.

Malik did _not_ complain about the food or the room, which certainly meant something. (Remembering the last time when Malik was at a sleepover at Mai's, Ra, that boy could complain! Well, everyone knew it was teasing, but the points that the boy made were all very true. Mai had a hard time keeping her fist from lashing out at Malik after that. The feeling was mutual with Malik. No problems there.)

Marik had yet to start killing anybody. That's a _good_ thing. Period.

Yami himself?

Oh, Yami was in a pleasant mood all morning. The duel conference starting tonight was planned to be held at Bakura's home since two months ago. They were here for fun, really (_Not_ that Bakura knows this or he would've kicked them out this instant. _Did he know it? _One never knows, because that man senses the slightest hints around him most of the time.,.). The duel conference was simply a Comparison Party in other words. There _should_ be nothing serious about it. Plus, they decided to hold this conference at Bakura's home because they were curious. Bakura never talked about himself to the group and their curiosity was building to an unbearable level.

It certainly wasn't what anybody had expected, though. Each individual that had entered this place probably felt the same - the comforting atmosphere of the rooms and meals that soothed their anxiety from staying at _Bakura's_ home.

Maybe they shouldn't be too relaxed. Yami thought. After all, who would believe that Bakura, the cold, self-preserved fiend, would bother to bring them comfort without reasons? Moreover, Yami had a feeling that there must be something more to Bakura's family than this house was letting on. There were absolutely no signs of a happy family. No old toys. No old sauce stains in the carpet. No pictures of Bakura's parents. Not much light. Not much of anything outside each of their own suites. It was like Bakura lived in here all by himself with bare stones around him. Just bare stones and cold wind.

---

_One day when Bakura was small, he found a baby bird underneath a tree. _

_"Dad, dad, look at what I found! Isn't it cute?" _

_The baby bird was adorable. Docile, harmless. Its tiny wings flapped a few times and then it twisted its body so that it could nestle against Bakura's small, warm palm in a more comfortable position. It had very tiny claws. They trembled when it tried to stand up once or twice._

_Father looked down on the birdling, and said mildly, "**It's dirty, Bakura. Throw it away.**"_

_Now that Bakura looked at the baby bird again, it was ugly. Pink, nearly bold, wrinkly, and useless. Its neck was so thin and soft that it could be snapped in two with just a poke of his fingers. _

_Its eyes. Large, closed, and almost dead-looking. Just like Bakura's new baby brother, Ryou. Infant Ryou was pale, small, and fragile. Infant Ryou had eyes closed, eyelids puffy and pink, just like the bird._

_Bakura frowned and was about to turn to put the bird back where he found it, when a large hand grabbed the birdling from his hand and crushed it._

_Dark brownish red, muddy substance dripped out of his father's palm. Father crouched down before Bakura, cigerate between his lips, and told him, "Don't mess with defenseless things, Bakura. **Fragility is disgusting.**" _

_Fragility was disgusting._ His father had said the same thing after they watched Bakura's mother die after giving birth to the small, wrinkly baby that his mother wanted to name Ryou. Father had threw his burning cigerate onto his dead mother's chest, and walked away. The nurses rushed in, but it was no use. Fragility was disgusting. Like the baby bird, whose organs were dripping out of its rear with the blood that was leaking down his father's fist. _Fragility was disgusting._ Like _Mother._ Like _Ryou._

"Hey, I came to see you again, baby brother."

Bakura looked down, and there he was, his little brother Ryou, beneath six feet of thick, black dirt and a tombstone. Bakura bent down and placed the wild flowers he had gathered from the shore of the island.

"These were your favourite. Do you still like them? Uh...maybe you don't have these where you are right now...oh well. They always make you laugh anyways." Bakura muttered to himself a little uncomfortably.

Behind some shrubs a little away from the tombstones that litter the hill Bakura was standing on, a boy in soiled clothes watched from beneath the branches and leaves. His big brother had came to give him flowers again today! It made him so happy! Bakura always came to this place to talk to him, but Ryou had no idea why. _Why was Bakura talking to the stone when he knew Ryou was always in hiding in the castle? Had his big brother forgot that Ryou was still alive?_

"---eir names are Yami, Seto, Joey, Marik, Otogi, and Malik." Bakura continued, counting the names off from his fingers, to the cold, ashy tombstone that responded with its eerie silence, "They're my...uh...people whom I met when I play Duel Monsters in the tournament I told you a while back. They're...dumb. But they don't intend to harm me (not that I can be harmed by those fools), that I can see. ...heh. _You_ would probably have loved to meet them, Ryou. They're your type of people. Happy, bouncy, weird. I don't really know how to talk to them, but it's...entertaining when they're around..."

Bakura's voice was gruffy, surpressed, but he always tried to talk with a lower voice than his natural one. Ryou could remember Bakura's voice when he was younger, when they still saw each other. Bakura had a quiet voice, lower than Ryou's, but just as quiet. Yet, Ryou found, that as they grew up, something changed. Bakura began to try to act tough. He surpressed his voice whenever he talked, in attempts to sound more threatening than he could be. He turned away from Ryou whenever Ryou tried to talk to him._ He left Ryou alone._

"...is just...stupid. He's got that holier-than-thou attitude, always acting as if he's just and righteous. He's not, I assure you. Yami's just a stuck up." Bakura complained to the tombstone heatedly, "...Well, at least he can play some real cards." He was quiet for a moment, as if listening to the wind. Then, he leaned forward, and kissed the cold, cracked tombstone. "Alright, I have to go cook dinner for those fools now, just so that they don't burn down your room if they tried to cook. Take care of yourself down there, okay? I'll come and tell you all about the games after I play those fools tonight. Ryou."

Bakura left, leaving Ryou wondering after him beneath the shrubs. His big brother always told him the most entertaining things. And before Father came back, Ryou would go back into hiding.

**_Hiding, in the darkest corners of this castle. Because who knew when Father would come back and call out for him. He never wants to be caught, ever again._**

---**_  
_**

**To be continued...  
**

---

**A/N:** Chapter 2 revised...well, basically rewrittened anyway. It was annoying that I had to write a new chapter, but I like writing these stuff. So there.

**(Past review replies) A Big Thanks to:** BishounenzAngel (Thanks! I actually have one of those Bah Bah sheeps. A small one. .b), ori-chen (Yah! Seto/Otogi! I found this pairing cute recently when I started reading some of the very few ones out there. Cookies? Yes, please holds out hands), Kilam (Thank you! blush I feel like I really need to work hard on this fic now. And here I thought maybe I could be lazy since not many people are reading this. The length? That's mainly because of: (a.) I don't have time (b.) I thought of only one or two special scenes for each chapter only. I don't know if I'm going to be able to make the chapters longer, but I'll certainly try!), and Bakuraluva (Yeah, I know, but because that was default chapter, I didn't want to give too much away just yet. You'll know what they are doing and all as you go through the story. The first few chapters are not going to be too lively. But the last few there will be plenty of horror so that we can all scream together Yay?)


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